


Iris

by EmeraldWaves



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Basically, Kinda, M/M, PWP, Post S2, ReiSaru - Freeform, eyyy i finally wrote Reisaru, the title is kind of weird but has like 3 meanings in my head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:05:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6570859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldWaves/pseuds/EmeraldWaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fushimi is not quite ready to admit any sort of romantic feelings for his King.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Iris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scrillazilla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrillazilla/gifts).



The first time it happens, Fushimi isn’t even sure if it’s real. His back hits the bed and his King’s cool fingertips trail down his skin and they were lost in each other for the evening. Munakata’s lips and touch bring Fushimi’s body to life and he throws his head back, clinging to the man as he feels his release leave his body with a telling twitch.

It’s a release Fushimi assumes Munakata is in desperate need of. Words aren’t exchanged between them, minus a breathy “ _Fushimi-kun_ ”, right towards the very end.

Fushimi almost wishes the other had stayed silent. His name said in such a sensual way continually echoes through his mind for days after, especially when Fushimi sees him and Munakata says his name as he normally does.

“ _Fushimi-kun, I have paperwork for you…_ ”

“ _Fushimi-kun, did you see…_ ”

“ _Fushimi-kun, Awashima said you were…_ ”

All these trivial things he keeps saying, and Fushimi finds himself yearning to hear Munakata call his name in a private manner again. Though he doesn’t tell Munakata that, never ever would he reveal such a vulnerability to this man.

And since that first time, he’s heard his name a number of ways; moaned breathily as thin fingers trail down his chest; teasingly purred in his ear, while Munakata wraps his hand around Fushimi’s hard cock and strokes him up and down; through sporadic grunts when he sees his King come completely undone above him and in him. The list goes on and on, and Fushimi has come to need his name said in every way Munakata does. As always, he doesn’t tell Munakata—never will he ever reveal his disgusting need for the man.

Fushimi’s come to learn when it’s going to happen, too. It’s something simple; Munakata will brush his hand against Fushimi’s when he hands him reports. It’s a gentle caress, but his fingers linger for a second too long, and Fushimi can see a glint in Munakata’s eyes when he says, “Deliver these to my office later this evening, alright Fushimi-kun?”

He knows exactly what that means—his back up against the wall, Munakata’s wet lips sucking on his neck, pulling on his skin just enough to leave a small red mark under the collar of his jacket. A reminder that Fushimi belongs to him, he always has.

His back will slide up the wall and his legs will wrap around Munakata’s waist and once again, Fushimi will lose himself with Munakata—a panting mess as he reaches his sexual high.

Now that the slates are gone, it’s gotten worse; more frequent. Before, Munakata would call upon him every few days or so—occasionally a week would go by with nothing, much to Fushimi’s disappointment. However, it’s slowly becoming a daily occurrence.

Fushimi can’t tell if it’s because Munakata doesn’t know how to cope with not being a King anymore or if maybe he went so long without sex, he’s making up for lost time, or maybe perhaps he was concerned he almost lost Fushimi to the Green King. Almost is a steep word though, betrayal was never a thought that even crossed his mind. And quite frankly, Fushimi doesn’t care what the reason is for their increased nightly rendezvous. From the moment he felt Munakata’s blue awaken inside of him, Fushimi has belonged to no one else. Even when he had three different colors battling inside of himself, the blue won. The blue always won.

The first night Fushimi is back, Munakata is rough and fast. He slams Fushimi’s chest against the desk and Munakata is pressed against him, kissing the back of his neck as his hand is buried in Fushimi’s dark locks. The thrusts vary in speed, fast and hard, but then slow and deep, each eliciting a different moan from Fushimi’s lips. That always spurs Munakata on, whenever Fushimi let’s himself go in such a way. It’s rare he that does and Fushimi knows Munakata likes it, but it’s more information than he’s willing to give up, unless it happens involuntarily.

With a final hard thrust, Fushimi’s chest rocks against the desk and he grunts as Munakata fills him with his finish. Panting against his back, Fushimi can feel Munakata’s choppy breath as he presses close to him.

“Fushimi-kun…” he pants and Fushimi closes his eyes, letting his name wash over his body with a shiver. He likes being the name that Munakata calls when he’s completely spent like this. “I apologize…” he mutters and Fushimi wonders if he’s sorry for being so fast and rough, or if he’s sorry for sending him on a mission that could’ve possibly ended his life. The former is nothing they’ve never tried before, so he can only assume it’s the latter.

“Tsk. Don’t,” Fushimi sighs, pressing his cheek against the cool wood. He likes it when Munakata gets rough with him and he doesn’t care if he has to die for him, he will. He just doesn’t want the idiot to apologize. Fushimi knows Munakata in the most intimate of ways. And though he doesn’t want to admit it, Fushimi is greedy for it. Greedy for him.

He’s so greedy that it’s grown to the point where sometimes Fushimi likes to see if _he_ can make it happen. Occasionally, it’s him who lets his hand linger on Munakata’s when he passes the work off to him. Sometimes he narrows his eyes and curls his lips just right, when he says “ _Captain_ ,” so he sees the playful glint flicker across Munakata’s eyes. Just the spark Fushimi wants to see, so he knows he’ll get what he wants later. He’ll never _ask_ for what he wants.

But just as planned, Munakata has him on the bed that night and he’s staring down at him, his hands on either side of Fushimi’s head. His irises are a deep shimmering purple, the gaze so intense, Fushimi can’t help but look away. Munakata’s never understood personal space and though he’s not physically close to him, it feels like his eyes are burying themselves inside Fushimi’s soul.

“Tsk,” he clicks his tongue and stares at the wall. “What are you doing?”

“Saruhiko,” Munakata says breathily, and Fushimi’s head jerks back to meet Munakata’s gaze. His impulse is to the slap the man, for calling him in such an informal way, but he knows he shouldn’t; they’ve grown this close now. Instead, he swallows and curls his fingers into the sheets, his knuckles whitening as both the desire to stay to get thoroughly fucked and the desire to run away from this man, who knows him far too well, fight against each other.

Leaning down, Munakata’s lips are inches away from his ear and Fushimi feels a shiver run down his spine, his hands twitching against the sheets. Perhaps this has gone on for too long—he’s let his King get a little too close. But Fushimi’s stuck now, pinned beneath him, his heart pounding in his chest as he waits for his King to speak.

“I want to make love to you,” Munakata mutters and before Fushimi realizes what he’s doing, his hands press against Munakata’s chest and he pushes him up, away from his ear.

“What the hell are you saying, idiot King?” Fushimi grunts and tries to maintain his composure, but he knows his face is bright red and his chest is heaving as anxiety shoots through his bones. Making love implies so much more.

Munakata runs a hand over Fushimi’s cheek and strokes him softly, an attempt to get Fushimi to calm down no doubt, but instead Fushimi clicks his tongue once more. “You can give it whatever pretty title you want, but it’s not going to make a difference. You’re still fucking me.”

Munakata sighs, “Oya?” he grins and Fushimi immediately regrets not running. “But that is where you are wrong. Let me show you.”

Fushimi wants to argue that he doesn’t want to be shown, but Munakata’s lips are against his neck so fast, and he really does want it, so he keeps his mouth shut.

At first, he doesn’t believe him, or maybe he doesn’t _want_ to believe him. Munakata’s kissing and licking at his bare neck as he always does, red marks appearing on his pale skin. He’s settled himself between Fushimi’s legs and they’re both naked, pressing against each other. Munakata is surprisingly warm and Fushimi’s breathing is growing shallow as their cocks are hardening against each other. It’s no different from all the other times they’ve done this together.

Munakata’s lips move up Fushimi’s jaw and then Munakata is kissing him square on the lips. Fushimi doesn’t like that as much cause it feels too intimate, so usually he lets the man kiss him and he leaves his eyes open. This time however, Munakata’s got a hand on his cheek and his kiss is so soft, his eyes flutter shut. Fushimi wants to lunge forward and bite his lip, just to spur the other on, and not let himself give in to the gentle kiss.

Pulling back, Munakata rests his forehead against Fushimi’s, his hands running down Fushimi’s sides. He pulls up and stares down at him again, violet hues twinkling with an excited look. Fushimi definitely can’t tell him to stop now, not when he’s so happy, though that smirk makes Fushimi a little worried.

“You’re lovely, Saruhiko,” he whispers and Fushimi feels his face light up a bright red as his jaw drops a bit. No one has ever called him lovely before. He snaps his mouth shut, pursing his lips while he pretends not to like the attention.

Munakata doesn’t seem to mind that Fushimi doesn’t answer. He begins to trail his lips down Fushimi’s body, moving teasingly slow, rolling his tongue over one of Fushimi’s pink nipples. He wraps his wet tongue around the bud and sucks on it gently, thumbs rubbing at Fushimi’s hips as he does it. Munakata even takes the time to do the same to the other side of his chest. Closing his eyes, Fushimi coves his mouth with his hand, biting down on his thumb. The attention feels so damn good and he can feel his cock twitching against his abdomen. He tries his best not to make any actual noise, scared that if he does, Munakata will think he likes this and make a habit of taking his time.

He feels Munakata’s lips trailing down his skin and his fingers slide up to run over his taut muscles. “I’m never able to pay such attention to the finer details of your body, Saruhiko. We’re always in such a rush.” Fushimi hates how the words roll off of Munakata’s tongue with such a deep purr. How is Munakata so satisfied by simply touching his stomach, Fushimi wonders. Against Munakata’s fingers, he can feel his stomach rise and fall, his body trembling from the soft touch. “It’s not every day I get to touch every part of you,” he grins, his chin resting on Fushimi’s shaking stomach, as Munakata stares up at him.

For a moment, Fushimi’s eyes flutter open and their gazes lock. He regrets it immediately, his face flushing as he thinks his King looks good down there between his own legs; Munakata’s hands touching him and only him, Munakata’s eyes locked on Fushimi’s and no one else’s.

“Shut up,” Fushimi growls, snapping his eyes shut, his hips rolling upwards a bit as he does.

“Ah, it seems you are enjoying it?” He teases, a small chortle slipping between his lips. Munakata’s fingers move over Fushimi’s thighs and knees, his hands stroking back and forth, sending shivers through Fushimi’s body.

“Just—Just get on with it,” he whimpers, hating how high his voice is, knowing that detail doesn’t go unnoticed by Munakata.

But thankfully, his King listens. His mouth nibbles at Fushimi’s inner thigh, kissing down his leg and back up again, repeating the process on both sides. He moves his lips tantalizingly close to Fushimi’s cock and the boy let’s out a long whimper. “I said, get on with it,” he moans and rolls his hips again.

“I told you, Saruhiko. I want to enjoy your body this evening. I want you to _feel_ my gratitude.”

“I…ngh…” he grunts. He wants to tell him he knows about Munakata’s gratitude and he doesn’t need to show him anything, but his back is arching off the sheets as Munakata’s lips slip around his cock and Fushimi can’t remember his words. Fushimi’s hands curl into the bed sheets as Munakata’s tongue darts out and flicks over the tip, his hot mouth sucking him in completely.

Fushimi hates this. He hates how gentle Munakata is being. He wants his King to bury himself in him completely, thrusting fast and hard. He hates the way Munakata’s tongue strokes over the base of his cock and causes a string of a pre-cum to shoot down the man’s throat. Fushimi’s breath hitches, and he despises that he can’t quite formulate a proper sentence while Munakata is working on him.

And Munakata takes his time, oh does he ever take his time. Fushimi can barely see straight as Munakata stretches him wide, first with one finger, then with two, and finally, three. With each added finger, Munakata pushes into Fushimi deeper, pressing against his prostate with a simple curl of his digits. His mouth stays around Fushimi’s cock, sucking on him gently as his tongue trails down the belly of his cock. Munakata is moving so slow, Fushimi is convinced they’ve been doing this for hours, his body overloaded by each touch and kiss. He can feel his ass sucking Munakata’s fingers inside with each movement and thrust the King makes.

Fushimi’s so damn worked up at this point, he just wants the King to fuck him and get it over with, but he knows it’s pointless to even ask. He’s panting and moaning and yelping each time Munakata’s fingers push against his muscles, and his mouth keeps making his cock twitch and his sac tighten. “Can’t you just—” Fushimi finally manages to choke out after a string of long moans slip from his lips.

“Patience is a virtue, Saruhiko,” Munakata teases, pulling his mouth off of his cock. “But I do suppose I’ve teased you enough, hm?” he chuckles and removes his fingers, kissing at his inner thigh. “I simply love how your ass is spread wide enough for me to feel your muscles pulsate around my fingers. I didn’t want to stop.”

 Fushimi lets out a groan, hearing Munakata speak the words slowly, articulating each syllable, lust heavy in his tone. Fushimi can tell Munakata knows he’s dying for more, the damn tease. He’s still not sure how this is different than any other time they’ve had sex, especially with how much Munakata seems to be absolutely torturing him.

Positioning himself at Fushimi’s entrance, Munakata begins to press inside, shivering and moaning as he does. Fushimi’s head presses back against the pillow, his hands squeezing Munakata’s shoulders as he grows used to the pressure inside his ass.

And when Munakata’s fully inside him, the man stops and stares down at Fushimi. Their eyes meet and Fushimi blushes—Munakata’s purple hues always throw him off when he stares at him with such intent, such passion, as though he can’t imagine connecting himself physically to anyone else—it’s this look that scares Fushimi.

Fushimi rolls his hips up a bit, grunting as he realizes Munakata’s thick cock is buried in him completely, unmoving, pressing against his prostate. He shivers and stares at his King. “What are you doing?” he whispers.

Munakata is silent, before he leans down and kisses Fushimi again, first his lips and then his jaw. “I’m enjoying your muscles moving and contracting around me. I’m enjoying filling you. But most of all, I’m enjoying being connected to you,” Munakata whispers against his lips and Fushimi feels his cheeks heat up again.

“Can you just move, you damn idiot,” he growls, mostly through a choked breath. He knows he doesn’t need to admit to how much Munakata is affecting him, he’s sure the other can tell.

When he starts to move, Fushimi’s eyes shut, unable to look at Munakata’s beautiful violet gaze any longer. The man is pushing into him and pulling himself out, only to stretch Fushimi more and more with each movement. His ass is burning from the friction and his cock is twitching against his belly, bouncing ever so slightly as Munakata thrusts into him faster. Finally. This is what he loves the most; Munakata buried deep inside of him, frantically thrusting until neither of them can hold back and they let themselves go, feeling the pleasure wash over their bodies. But this time, Munakata doesn’t quite reach that pace; his hips are rolling down gently and his cock is pushing inside of Fushimi with such precision, Fushimi can tell his King still has his head—he hasn’t caved entirely to the desire pulsating through his blood.

“C-Captain…M…Munakata…C’mon…fuck!” Fushimi grunts, his nails scraping at his King’s shoulders. But instead of listening, Munakata wraps his arms around Fushimi’s waist, pulling their bodies even closer together as his thrusts pick up their pace.

“Enjoy it, Saruhiko. Enjoy me pushing into you and stretching you, slowly, completely,” he whispers against Fushimi’s throat, kissing at his skin. It’s almost painful, hearing it described so sensually in his ear and suddenly, Munakata’s moving faster and Fushimi’s breath is shallow, his King clearly nearing his own finish. Each thrust pushes Munakata’s tip against Fushimi’s prostate and each movement feels heavier than the next, pleasure shooting up Fushimi’s spine. He has to admit, it feels damn good—the deepness, the connection—it’s amazing, way better than he wants to admit out loud. With every roll of Munakata’s hips, Fushimi feels a deep wave of pleasure rush through his body.

He feels Munakata’s hand wrap around his cock and he strokes him in time with his deep thrusts. Fushimi stares at the ceiling, his vision blurring as his orgasm begins to pump through his body. His mouth drops, a deep, heavy moan reverberates in his chest as his body twitches against Munakata, his ass clenching tight around his King’s cock. Fushimi’s arms instinctively wrap around Munakata’s neck, panting in his ear, crying out as he reaches completion. His own cock twitching, his cum spurting out from his tip. He feels Munakata empty himself inside of him, the two of them finishing practically together.

It’s the best feeling, the best orgasm of his damn life—Munakata deep inside of him, their bodies completely connected and Fushimi’s convinced he’s seeing stars or his own personal heaven as Munakata’s arms slip from around him and his purple irises glisten with pleasure and a compassion that Fushimi hasn’t experienced much of in his life. He’s panting as he stares at up at Munakata and Fushimi thinks that he might _hate_ this man. This asshole King who has given him the life he’s never thought he deserved.

“It seems I’ve convinced you, eh Fushimi-kun?” Munakata pants, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. Fushimi much prefers it when they fuck, he thinks. Though he supposes he wouldn’t mind it if they _made love_ every so often—but like hell he’s going to tell Munakata _that_.

“Shut up, you didn’t do anything.” he whispers, cupping his cheeks to pull him into a soft kiss.

And Fushimi doesn’t want to say this either, but Munakata’s done everything.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write Reisaru forever, ever since Sara and I started RPing them accidentally in like...December. LOL and of course I just had to write really gross smut LOL. So I gifted this to Sara since we are like XD in Reisaru hell rn. She also beta-ed this for me, so thank you for beta-ing this fic which turned into a gift for you LOL. I am the worst. Anyway, I really love this pair so maybe I'll do more later when I get less busy LOL. I am writing way too much right now.
> 
> [emeraldwaves](http://emeraldwaves.tumblr.com/) is my tumblr! 
> 
> [musickazoo](https://twitter.com/musickazoo) is where I scream about Munakata daily LOL


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